Manila Folders and Ball Point Pens
by civillove
Summary: Pam has to stay to do late inventory with Jim, which Roy isn’t too thrilled about. She’s decided after a few hours she doesn’t care… especially when kissing seems to be ways in telling Jim how she feels. Jim/Pam, Season 2.
1. The Forgotten Papers

Title: Manila Folders and Ball Point Pens

Pairing: Jim/Pam

Rating: Pg-15

Summary: Pam has to stay to do late inventory with Jim, which Roy isn't too thrilled about. She's decided after a few hours she doesn't care…

Spoilers: Season 2 after "The Client"

Disclaimer: Ok I own nothing…but if I did Jim would be next to me

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Chapter 1: the forgotten papers

"_You're right, we didn't dance. It was more like… swaying."_

Pam shook her head of the previous day and tried to pull herself from bed. After Jim had told her that they had had their first date yesterday she couldn't shake the aching feeling in her stomach. Pam slipped on her blouse and buttoned it from the bottom. It hadn't been romantic, it couldn't have been. And she _knew_ what dancing was and swaying wasn't even close.

_He tried to smirk off her looks. "But, still romantic."_

Moving back and forth in the parking lot with your best friend with one annoying headphone too big for your ear wasn't romantic either, no matter what Jim said.

_Pam shook her head and placed the papers on her desk. "Swaying isn't dancing."_

The expression on his face was burned into her memory forever and she could feel the hurt coming off him in waves. But he returned fire; which she wasn't use to him doing. And he had hit the perfect nerve.

_Jim shrugged her off, pretending she hadn't hurt him as much as he felt. "At least I didn't leave you at a high school hockey game."_

Pam barley kissed Roy good bye and grabbed her purse on the way out the door. A few papers had fallen out, which Roy had called her back for, but she couldn't turn back now. She was walking as fast as she could to her car. She was afraid if she made eye contact with Roy too long Jim's words would ring in her ears…and she would realize swaying _is_ dancing.

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"Morning Pam." Jim said quietly.

She barely nodded at him and Jim turned back to his computer. He knew she was still upset with him from yesterday. He remembered he had tried to apologize, but for some reason that was the time he couldn't blurt words out and she was walking away too quickly. He got up and walked to her slowly, like all of a sudden she was unapproachable.

"Hey…about yesterday…"

She barely moved her head to look at him when he leaned over the counter. He felt like telling her that he had meant ever single world. Screw Roy and his whirl wind courtship that was full of empty promises and drunken lies. He had meant _every_ _single_ _word_.

Jim shook his head; he was never good at having his heart write transcripts for him. "I was totally joking. It's not a date if the girl goes home to her fiancé." He repeated himself from yesterday hoping it was enough of a lie to get her to react.

Her eyes seemed to breach the top of the counter briefly when he added. "Right?"

She nodded. "Right."

Not the answer he wanted; but it was something.

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"Pamallaaa!" Michael yelled coming out of his office. "I need those papers set up in the conference room before Jan gets here. Big day, big day…" he leaned over the counter and watched her shuffle through her papers. "Big presentation, I'm glad I could trust you to do your job…can you believe Jan? All of a sudden she said I don't do my job…like, what is that?"

Pam shrugged but wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. But knowing Michael she wasn't missing anything he wouldn't repeat. Where could she have put those papers? Even though Michael usually exaggerated, he was right. Today was a big day or at least important. Jan was coming in with a few suits from corporate and if this meeting didn't go near perfect, they could be out of jobs.

"You have them Pam?"

She could tell he was getting impatient and she nodded. "Yeah, I'll be in there in a few minutes."

He banged the counter loudly with his hands and made a rude comment that she chose to ignore and he went into the conference room. Pam flipped papers aside frantically. Where were the papers? The documents and grafts she'd spent two days on? She slowed down for a moment and put her hand over her open mouth. The papers that had fallen out of her purse the morning…were the ones she needed for the meeting.

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Jim followed everyone into the conference room and took a seat farthest to the back. The farther away from Michael and Dwight; the least likely he'd be able to resist the urge to comment on their stupidity. When he saw Pam walk in he made a motion for her to come and sit next to him but she never saw it. She went straight to Michael and whispered something near his ear. That's when he realized she was upset. Her bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks were a dead give away.

He was about to get up and ask her if she was ok when Michael pulled her out of the conference room and into his office, somewhat slamming the door.

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"Pam I thought you took your job more seriously." Michael shook his head.

Right, because Michael was the role model when it came to doing his job. "I had the papers this morning; they fell out of my purse." She responded quietly.

"Well I called Jan and she wasn't too happy either. The meetings canceled and you'll have to stay back and do the inventory that we would have gone over in the meeting."

She felt like she was a child again. Like she had broken a vase and her mother was making her write, "I will not throw a ball in the house," five hundred times.

"There's thousands of things to count Michael, I can't possibly do it all by myself."

Michael opened a few folders on his desk and pretended to sift through them. It was like was trying out for the role of detective and he had to look like he did work all the time. It made Pam want to smack him.

"You're right Pam; this may be your punishment…" Pam rolled her eyes. "But there's no reason someone can't stay behind and help. What about…" A few clicks of the mouse and a few turns of blank pages in a folder later and… "Jim?"

If Pam would have been drinking something she would have choked. "Um, I don't think…"

Michael smiled and stood. "It's settled then. Jim will help you with the inventory."

Pam stood as well and stopped him before he could make it back out into the office. "Michael, Jim and I…aren't exactly on the same level right now."

"That's what she said." Michael said shrugging.

"No I mean were fighting." Pam rolled her eyes and felt like telling him that joke of his was going to get him punched one day.

"A lover's quarrel?" he asked.

Pam let out an aggravated sigh and opened the door to let Michael walk out of his office and over to Jim. She walked back to her desk and watched as Jim got water from the cooler and Michael tell him a really horrible joke. She could tell Jim was uncomfortable because he kept taking sips of water so he wouldn't have to say anything. But as the conversation went on she could see his expression change and he nodded slowly as Michael walked away.

Pam looked down as Michel went into his office and then glanced up to see Jim walking towards her.

She picked up the phone but she knew he'd see right through her. "Who you calling?"

"Roy." She said. Maybe if she kept to one worded answers she wouldn't feel like she was lying all the time.

"Think he'll be upset about you staying to work late with me?" It was just a question and it popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

She hit the dial tone button and set the phone down. "Right, because counting Manila folders and ballpoint pens really sets the mood for romance." She practically spat at him rolled her eyes and it cut Jim to the bone. She wondered when she attained the ability to cut someone with words.

"That's not I meant and you know it Pam." Great now he was accusing her. That should have gone well seeing as how he was accusing her yesterday of going out on their first date.

Pam stood and walked around the corner of her desk to approach him. She was close enough that she could smell him and she wished she couldn't. Because when she got home all she could smell was him. Like somehow his words and breath seeped into her clothes and she couldn't get him out. Everything she owned smelled of him.

"Well you're the one who said we'd had our first date last night Jim." She wished she could have stopped the anger filling her veins. Because the thing was he had been right. Jim was _right_; and that's what fueled most of her anger. That she couldn't admit to herself that he had been right the whole time. Roy was the only thing standing in her way and she quickly wondered when Roy had become an object blocking her path instead of a person.

Jim sighed angrily. "Maybe through this whole night, we just shouldn't talk." He was learning to adopt some of her monotone and coldness.

She nodded and went to sit back down, as did he. When people started pouring out of the office she called Roy's cell again. After explaining her situation she hung up the phone and glanced around the office. Everyone had left except her and Jim. The sound of running computers and the hum of the heater felt like notes hanging in the air to taunt them. She felt like the room was spinning and Jim was the only constant thing. It was like dancing really.

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comments or opinions are always welcome and thanks for reading :D


	2. inventory part 1: don't break the sugar

Chapter 2: Inventory Part 1: Don't Break the Sugar Bowl

There were forty three boxes of blue ballpoint pens sitting on the tables in the warehouse. Each box contained 30 pens. How many pens does it take to drive a person crazy? Pam tapped her pen against her tally notebook repeatedly. In the last two hours she managed to count twenty three boxes of black pens, forty seven boxes of pencils and two hundred and seven manila folders. Although after counting about a hundred of them, her vision registered them as a green color instead of the bright tan.

She glanced at Jim's table which was exactly five inches away; she couldn't believe her mind measured it, and watched him circle the folders and stacks of post-its. He hadn't talked with her this entire time and after a while the silence was beginning to drive her stir crazy. She couldn't fill up the silence with humming and a few fake coughs every so often.

Jim could see her glancing over at his table and he turned his back to her and continued to count the post-its. The tapping of her pen was ringing in his ears and he wished for a moment he could become deaf. He wondered if they were both pretending to play that stupid middle school game, don't break the sugar bowl. It was childish and really testing his patience.

Finally after a few taps became too loud, Jim snapped suddenly. "Can you please stop with the tapping?"

Pam looked up for a moment and put her pen down. "You know what I think I need a break."

"Good idea…" Jim muttered. He kept wondering if he was hurting her. He hated hurting people's feelings, _especially_ hers. But he wasn't going to let her walk all over him like she usually did, even though he didn't mind it half the time.

As Pam turned to move around the table she accidentally bumped into the corner, sending three boxes of pens flying onto the floor. They seemed to have landed with a louder clatter then they should of, but the silence had created a lot of illusions.

"Damnit..." she murmured bending down to scoop them up.

Jim turned when he had heard the clatter and hesitated when he watched her bend down to retrieve them. He honestly didn't know what to do. They hadn't been speaking for two hours due to the little game that had them firmly in its grasp. But picking up pens didn't violate the rules right?

He tried to remember what the rules were exactly as he bent down to help her. He knew rules were meant to be broken. But with Pam it wasn't just rules at stake here. It was his body and his heart, and hearts weren't made to be shattered.

"Did you already count these?"

She nodded scooping up most of the black pens and placed them back in the box. "They're everywhere though; I'll have to count them again."

"Maybe you should be more careful next time." Jim said and picked up the blue box.

She took it from him quickly. "Maybe you shouldn't help next time."

"I was forced to remember? Something about you forgetting papers?" Damn, he kind of hoped he was hurting her. At least she'd be feeling something.

She glanced at him. "I meant with the pens."

Jim sighed; now he felt like an ass. He suddenly heard Pam's cell phone chirp and she stood reaching inside her sweater pocket.

"It's Roy, I'll be right back."

Jim only nodded and picked up the rest of the pens. Of course it was Roy; it was always Roy. He felt like telling her that Roy was her past and he was the future…but it was corny. And after all this was the present.

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Jim placed the boxes back on the table and stacked them. As he turned to head back to his table he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was Pam's tally pad but there were thick black lines on the paper behind the number of ball point pens sheet. He flipped the page over and looked at something she had drawn. It was a piano, a beautifully drawn one. There was long curtains behind it but you could see a bit past them, as if she wanted to make them transparent. After looking at for few moments he realized it was Dunder Mifflin's parking lot.

He looked at it oddly and picked it up to get a closer look. Why would there be a piano in the middle of the parking lot? But then he realized there were music notes and flares coming from the piano and only one thought came to his head.

"_There was dancing and fireworks. Pretty good date…"_

His mouth tugged into a small smile as he put the notebook back down and heard Pam approach the door to the stairs. As he watched her make her way down the stairs his smile faded and he turned back to his work.

"_We didn't dance." _

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Jim turned slightly when he first heard it. He saw Pam's eyes were red and the tracks down her face were wet. He tried to think of a good reason to walk over there, he wanted to know what was wrong. He _needed_ to know; always needed to make sure her business was his own.

He picked up a box of paper clips and carried them with him over to her table. They were his safety hatch and he kept wondering when he needed an excuse like paper clips to come and talk with her. As he walked towards her he heard her sniffle and it stopped him dead in his tracks. He didn't know if he could do this, if she was upset what was he gonna do? Pat her back awkwardly and tell her lies that everything was going to be ok?

She sniffled again and it was ear shattering in the now growing silence of the warehouse. Suddenly the bottom of the box Jim was holding gave away and seven hundred paper clips fell out of the bottom. He wondered if the sound waves had loosened it.

That had gotten her attention and she turned bending down with him to pick them up. Jim seemed to squint at her features and he saw that sadness and anger were painted among her face. Like the artist forgot that happiness and love was in life too.

"Are you ok? Did something happen with Roy?" Too many questions at once; he could see she was wavering. Maybe it was the venom he felt leaking from his mouth when he said Roy's name.

She shook her head and he heard another god awful sniffle. He needed her to stop. Stop everything. She was making the room spin out of control. He touched her hand slightly when she picked up some paper clips.

"Pam…"he started gently. It was all gentle and tender now. Needed her to trust him; to make her feel loved. Because he did love her; always. "You know you can tell me things, its ok."

Pam looked up at him and their foreheads were almost touching. She wanted to lean onto him for support and almost did when she felt heat radiating off him. "Roy's just upset that I couldn't make him dinner tonight."

Jim had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and Pam sat on the floor, curling her legs under her. "And I think he had a few drinks and he just started with the yelling. But that wasn't what set me off."

She rubbed her eyes with her finger tips and Jim held her other hand tightly. He really shouldn't have been doing this. Not so tightly; not with her. He didn't want to loosen his hold though, he had her. And he couldn't go back now.

"What was it?" he tried coaxing it out of her but that didn't go over well when her lower lip started quivering.

"I applied for this art job a while back, I was going to work in this gallery and get space to put my art up. I've been waiting for a response letter for weeks…and Roy had the joy of informing me that I didn't get the job…"

Her voice went out on the last few words but Jim heard everything crystal clear, the silence made it so you could hear a pin drop.

"Pam, I'm so sorry." Jim said honestly. His stomach dropped and throbbed when he could suddenly see Pam working so hard on it. Adding paintings and drawings and getting no support from Roy. It made Jim want to punch his lights out.

"I just…" she shrugged. "Worked really hard on it."

He inched closer to her and sat as well, letting her lean in if she needed to. He couldn't say anything he wanted. He couldn't say 'I know', because he didn't know. He didn't know anything. He couldn't say 'I'm sorry' again because he'd feel like a broken record. And he couldn't say 'Roy's an ass' because it wasn't his place. Wasn't his concern that Pam was making all the wrong decisions. So he settled for saying nothing.

Jim slowly raised his arm and placed it on her back. When she didn't flinch or move away he started moving in small circles. Pam let a few tears slide down her face before she let herself lean into Jim. He placed an arm over her and she realized she still had paper clips in her hands.

She let them fall to the floor, one by one. "You ever think about how different your life would be if you would have…taken a different route? Chose something different or met someone new?"

Jim nodded and she didn't need to see him to confirm his answer. His head was now resting on top of hers as she laid her own on his chest. He thought about that every single day. What would his life have been like if he was with her?

But he just nodded and said one simple word. "Yes."

It was easier giving her one worded responses, everything else seemed too hard. After a while of sitting there on the floor, watching her pick up paper clips and letting them fall from her hand, he wanted to say something to her.

Something about those three little words that were too big to say.

But he couldn't; it was against the rules of don't break the sugar bowl.


	3. inventory part 2: rain

Chapter 3: Inventory Part 2: Rain

After Pam seemed to have vented all she could Jim helped her up and told her to get some water. When she left he picked up the paper clips that had fallen from her hands over and over again and clenched them in his fists. They felt like they were still warm from her touching them, or maybe that was just his body reacting to the sudden heat from her. She'd been so close to him, lying on his chest, he was convinced she had left an imprint. It was the kind that he couldn't see but that he could feel.

Jim placed the last of the paper clips back in the box as she came back down the warehouse stairs and approached him.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, trying to remember what he needed to count next.

Pam nodded and picked up her tally pad. "Yeah, I guess. How much stuff do we need to count yet?"

It was funny how things got pushed so far behind them. The scene that happened not more than ten minutes ago felt like it'd been gone for years. "We still have the rest of the manila folders, highlighters, sharpies, more post-its and file boxes."

"Wow, feels like we haven't been doing anything." The sentence was more weighted than she knew.

Jim nodded and handed her boxes of highlighters. "Yeah, we could have done more. A lot more than that."

Pam wasn't looking at him when he said it. But she knew he wasn't talking about the stack of ball point pens.

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After an hour or so of counting and tallying Pam realized the silence had set in again. She didn't know where it could have been hiding but it felt like as soon as the last words left either of their mouths it struck again; blocking them from talking. There had been little comments about highlighters, the job she didn't get, tallies and Jim sneezed once but other than that it had been silent.

"Are you hungry?" Jim asked her suddenly.

She hadn't noticed her stomach had been growling. It was odd since it sounded like that loudest thing in the room. "That obvious?" She placed a hand over her stomach as if to silence it.

Jim smiled. "Sounds like you swallowed a lion. Come on, I'll buy you dinner at the vending machine."

Pam smirked and echoed his footsteps up the stairs. The silence didn't follow them.

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The closest vending machine was near the parking lot in the lobby. It was easier than going three floors up to their office break room. Jim played with the coins in his hands and looked in the machine.

"The real question is now, chips or candy?"

Pam leaned against the wall next to the vending machine and felt her grumbling stomach. "This can't be good for an empty stomach."

Jim smirked. "You defiantly don't look like the type who would eat cookies before dinner."

She smiled. "I was the queen of stealth; I took cookies when I wanted to."

Jim nodded. "Well queen of stealth, chips or candy?"

She observed the selection and motioned him to push the coins into the slot. He did so and she pushed A4, which let M&M's drop to the opening. She reached her hand through and pulled out the bag.

"Candy." She said and smiled.

He smiled too as she walked over to the glass doors and opened the small bag of chocolate. He suddenly had a craving for candy as well.

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"Were they calling for rain today?" Pam asked as she leaned against the railing near the glass doors.

Jim shook his head and poured M&M's into his hands. "I don't think so but you know the Scranton Weather Team." He rolled his eyes. "They don't know up and down let alone rain or shine."

"That sounded like an advertisement for a Post Office." She giggled.

Jim raised his eyebrows and turned sideways to face her. "Are you saying my goal in life is to be a postman?"

Pam nodded. "Yes, you most defiantly should. I could see you working the tight blue shorts already."

Jim shook his head, embarrassed. "Thank you so much."

Pam looked out at the pouring rain hitting the only two cars in the parking lot. There were only two street lights and they were blinking on and off due to the thunder and lightening.

"I hope the power doesn't go out." She said suddenly turning to head back to the warehouse.

"Yeah, whatever shall we do? Oh I know, we could go home."

"And miss the excitement of counting more ball point pens? Take it back Jim, take it back."

Jim laughed and followed her down the stairs of the warehouse and shook his head suddenly. As he reached the bottom he went to the nearest trash can and shook his hand a bit. The chocolate had melted in his hands.

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"How many highlighters?" Jim asked tearing off a piece of notebook paper.

"Forty seven boxes." She answered.

"And…" He glanced at the sheet. "Sharpies?"

"Twenty seven blue ones, thirty two red ones and ninety one black ones."

Jim smiled looking up from the paper. "In boxes?"

She rolled her eyes. "No individually I counted a hundred and forty and some sharpies. Yes in boxes you dork."

"Maybe if you spent more time counting than you do calling me names, we would actually get work done."

She made a huge "O" shape with her mouth and punched him lightly in the arm. "Right that whole half an hour when you kept throwing M&M's at me was completely _my_ fault."

"You returned fire; of course it was your fault."

She shook her head. "You're completely twelve years old." She leaned against him to glance at the sheet. He wondered if she noticed he was doing it on purpose so she'd have to lean in close to him to see it. "How much left?"

"File boxes and the rest of the manilas and we're done."

She looked around the cluttered tables. "Where are those?"

Jim looked around as well and pointed over to the shelves. "I think some of them are up there."

Pam started to head over when he pulled her arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting the boxes and folders." She pulled her arm free.

"And leave you to climb on a ladder with your type of gracefulness? I don't think so."

Pam scrunched her eyebrows and followed him to the shelves. "What about my gracefulness?" she pouted.

He smiled. "You don't have any."

"Oh and you do?" She watched him climb up the ladder and smiled.

"As a matter of fact I do. I just happened to be the captain of my junior high basketball team."

She rolled her eyes and giggled. "Which has nothing to do with gracefulness and agility."

Jim shook his head. "Take it back Pam before I drop files on you."

Pam lifted her hands in defeat. "I'm sorry if I mocked you."

Jim nodded and stacked three file boxes on top of each other and folders on top of that. "Yeah, you bet you're sorry."

He lifted them in one swift motion and descended the ladder carefully; Pam stepped back watching him do so. Although Jim's balance was short lived when he turned and tripped on the final step of the ladder. He fell foreword sending the boxes and folders in the air and they landed before he did on the tables of sharpies and pens. Jim landed a few inches away from the ladder on mostly his chest and elbows and Pam rushed to the floor as he turned on his back.

Jim grunted painfully. "I take it back, I have _no_ agility."

Pam went behind him as he tried to lean foreword. But he gave out and slumped back down on her. His head was leaning on her shoulder and she was between holding his chest and reaching for his arms. "Oh my god Jim, you scared the crap outta me. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I think. I'm not gonna from anything if that's what you're worried about. Except from embarrassment. I might die from that."

She smiled slightly and gave his torso a squeeze. She didn't care if he gave a light groan from it; he could have gotten way more hurt than he did.

"Here sit up."

He did so watched how she suddenly got way more serious as she was looking over his body. She was feeling most of his chest and arms and that's when he realized that the only pain he had was when she stopped touching him.

"Pam, I'm ok really. Just a whole lot of bruises."

"I just want to make sure you're not bleeding anywhere." She was touching his arms now and he grabbed one of her hands with his own.

"Pam. I'm ok, really."

She looked at him and nodded. She grabbed one of his arms and draped it over her shoulder as she helped him stand. He grabbed his side a bit as he stood and she guided him over to the stairs.

"I think I bruised my ribs." He said a bit painfully.

She sat on the stair below his and shook her head. "I think bruised your brain." She said quietly.

He noticed she smiled after that and he smirked. "Are you laughing at me?" he asked.

She covered her mouth and shook her head, although it was clear she was hiding a fit of giggles.

"I can't believe this. I fell from a ladder and you're laughing at me." He shook his head. "I can't imagine what you would have done If I would have fell from a higher step."

"I'm sorry; it was just the macho speech before hand."

"Yeah, yeah now my ego's bruised too. Thank you." He grunted feeling his ribs again and she nodded.

She grabbed his hand from his ribs and squeezed it. "I'm glad you're ok."

He nodded and wouldn't tear his eyes from her own. She didn't look away either as he started descending to her step and he leaned closer to her. Their foreheads touched and Pam let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. When the air reached Jim's lips he felt like he was on fire and the imprints she'd left on his skin felt like they'd been left by a branding iron.

Their lips were a half an inch apart when Pam stuttered. "Jim…what— I-I have to get something from my car."

He pulled away and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

But she was already up the stairs and out the door. He followed her as fast as he could; it felt like his bones were breaking.

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Jim made it to the lobby and stopped when he realized Pam hadn't left. She was leaning against the railing again staring out into the rain. He went up to her slowly in case she decided to bolt and leaned against the door.

Her knuckles were turning white; she was gripping the railing so hard. He guessed she wasn't running because she forgot it was raining. "Those weather men can be really unpredictable."

She shook her head. "So can a lot of things."

He wanted to apologize again but God help him; he couldn't find one thing to be sorry for. "Still need to run out to your car? I mean, I could do it if you want."

She turned to face him and shook her head. "I can't remember what I was going to get."

Pam confused him really. She never could decide on anything. She was clearly avoiding the situation but she wasn't doing a very good job at it. "So, in a matter of five minutes you forgot what you wanted in your car?" he was challenging her and it felt like the right thing to do for once.

She didn't say anything though; she just turned her back to him and shook her head.

"Or do you not want to get wet?"

"I don't want to get soaked." She said finally but he could tell she was just thinking of something that she could actually grab from her car.

Jim came up behind her and whispered. "What if you don't have a choice?"

Pam's eyes widened as she felt Jim wrap his arms around her waist and lift her from the floor. She flailed and found herself giggling as he pulled her into the rain.

"Jim! Jim stop, stop!"

But he wouldn't because she knew she was laughing all the time that he was doing it. When he finally carried her to her car and placed her down, she was soaked.

But then again, so was he. "There you go Beesley. One way ticket to your car."

She smiled loving the way his hair drooped with droplets of rain. She could feel her own curls filling with water and her clothes were starting to feel heavier.

She shrugged. "I lied; I have nothing to get out of my car."

She lied about a lot of things. "I know. But I wanted to drag you out here anyway." He said over the thunder.

She saw the lights blink inside Dunder Mifflin and the street lamps shuddered with their confusion of losing electricity.

When the lights seemed to have gone out she took that moment, with the lightening as the only light, to throw herself in Jim's arms and push her lips on his. It only took him a second to respond and soon he was lifting her farther into his arms and pushing his lips deeper onto hers. When Pam opened her eyes she saw him again, the street lights had regained their light.

Leave it to Dunder Mifflin's parking lot to confuse her.

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comments? opinions? leave them thanks for reading 3


	4. rooms and paper cuts

Chapter 4: Rooms and Paper Cuts

Pam was silent when they went back inside to the warehouse. He was kind of wondering if she had lost her voice somewhere in between the parking lot and there. Or maybe he'd taken it. The rain had seeped into his clothes so maybe that was where her voice had gone; deep into the fibers of cotton on his shirt. He felt like if he slept with those clothes on he'd hear her in his dreams.

He followed her down those damned stairs again and looked around the room. It looked a bit trashed thanks to his graceful steps on the ladder. The sharpies and pens were blanketing the floor and the folders and boxes were skewed about near the ladder.

Jim laid his hand gently on her shoulder when she started picking up the pens. "Pam, are you alright?"

It was then he realized she was shaking and he looked around for his jacket. "Are you cold?"

She nodded and watched him look for his jacket a moment. "Here."

He placed it over her shoulders and she pushed her arms through the sleeves. It was way too big for her and the shoulders of it were broad. She wrapped herself in it and took a deep breath and the smells of Jim enveloped her nostrils. It felt so warm even though she kept shivering. It was then when she realized it wasn't his jacket, it was him. Jim always made her feel shaky and warm; he always did this to her. And now that she had kissed him, he was in her system now and she felt like she would overdose. That is if you could overdose on warm fuzzies and butterflies in your stomach that made you shake.

"Jim…what. What was that out there?" She knew the answer but she needed him to say it. She didn't have enough courage to admit what had happened, what she had done.

"I think you know what it was." He said reaching for her arms. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms trying to create friction, trying to create heat. Because in the end that's all they were; two cold bodies that if brought together, would create warmth.

She shook her head and pulled herself away from him. She didn't need warmth. She needed to feel what was real. And what was real was cold and distant. "Ok one more time Jim, what the _hell_ was that out there?"

She was angry with herself that she had let that happen and it was spilling over into her voice. It wasn't Jim's fault that she couldn't deal and she could tell he knew that. "Like you don't know, Pam. As I remember you jumped me out there."

Pam sighed angrily. "Don't say it like that."

"Don't say it like that because it's true?" he asked. He needed to add the word truth in there as much as possible, because in the end he knew that was what Pam was really afraid of. Letting herself know what was true and right in front of her.

"I did not jump you." Pam said now throwing his jacket at him.

He brought his hand up to block it from hitting his face and threw it on the ground. "Jumped, flied, leaped, hopped. However you want to put it, you still kissed me."

He was walking closer and closer to her and she was backing up that many times to get away. He wasn't letting this one disappear under the rug with all the other secrets they had created and ignored.

She eventually backed herself into a shelf and stood there looking at him. "Jim I'm not sure what happened but I—"

"Don't do that." He said suddenly. "You know exactly how you feel." He should know, he felt the same way too.

"The truth is Pam; you can hide behind Roy all you want. But ya know what?" He shrugged and looked away from her. "It won't change the fact of how you felt when you kissed me. Or when I kissed you."

He wanted a reaction from her but he wasn't going to get one. She felt like his words were shackles, permanently keeping her there in that moment where she couldn't decide what to say or do.

Jim shook his head and handed her the piles of manila folders on the floor.

"Just thought you ought to know that."

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Pam remembered last night as a blur. She remembered the rain, and the taste of M&M's and Jim. She remembered Jim, but then again how could she forget him?

"Babe! Its ten are you getting up?"

She placed the pillow over her head. "It's Saturday Roy."

"I know, I wanted some breakfast." He called back and it made her grit her teeth.

"I'm not feeling well." She groaned trying to block out the pervious day.

"Alright but when you get up I want some food alright?" he then yelled at the television and she could hear a football score.

She sat up in bed and threw her legs over the side and let them dangle. Was this what her life was really going to be like? She kept forgetting what it felt like to wake up with butterflies when you remembered who was in bed next to you. She couldn't recall in a long time when Roy hadn't given her butterflies that didn't make her stomach recoil.

Pam stood slowly and walked over to grab her robe. When she pulled it from her chair, the sweater she'd been wearing last night fell to the floor. She picked it up and for some reason brought it to her nose. Last night's memories filled her senses and she smelled Jim all around her.

"_You know exactly how you feel."_

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Jim rolled around in his sheets.

"_Don't say it like that."_

It's when he heard her he opened his eyes. Like maybe she was sitting next to him or lying in the same bed that made him jolt awake. But as he woke up he realized he'd been recapping the previous night; and it made him suddenly sick to his stomach.

He sat up and realized that he'd fallen asleep in the clothes he had been wearing last night and pulled off his button down and t-shirt in one single motion. Before throwing it on the floor he brought the shirt to his nose. But nothing came to him and he rolled his eyes for thinking it would. All he smelled was a faint whiff of his cologne and damp fabric softener.

He stood and went into the bathroom to turn the shower and suddenly felt a tingling sensation on his forearms. Her imprints were still there, he could feel them. He needed the water to be scalding hot to get rid of them. To be rid of her.

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Monday came too quickly along with the aching headache of not enough sleep and not strong enough coffee. Pam felt extremely sluggish walking from the elevator to her desk. And when she got there she realized Jim wasn't at his desk. It was funny that the next thing she did was make sure his coat was on the rack; to make sure he was there at all. Because if he wasn't the day would suck a whole lot more, even though she wouldn't like to admit it.

"Pam, can I see you in here please?" Michael called from his office.

Pam nodded even though Michael couldn't see her and headed into his office. When she turned the corner to sit down she almost turned right back out. In fact, she figured she would have if Michael hadn't closed the door. She sat next to Jim and his scent immediately assaulted her; like it had been waiting. She couldn't help but glance over at him and only managed to see his muscles involuntarily flexing under his white button down shirt. She kept wondering what made him smell so good, what made him smell like Jim. But her thoughts were interrupted by her name being called.

Finally Jim had to elbow her arm to get her to turn her attention to Michael. She fought the urge to have her cheeks fill with embarrassment. "Yeah Michael?"

"As I was saying, you two did so well with the inventory the other night it was decided you'd be put in charge of putting client lists together."

"Client lists?" Jim asked.

It'd been the first words she'd heard him say since that night. Michael nodded. "Yes client lists." He said it slower like they had a problem learning. "Clients put in alphabetical order and then seeing what they've ordered and checked off on a sheet."

"So basically inventories of what paper people are ordering." Pam simplified.

"If I knew you would have needed it more simplified Pam I would have made a diagram." When Michael added air quotes around simplified she felt like vomiting.

"Good for everyone?" Jim nodded in Michael's general direction but wasn't looking at him. After all if Pam wasn't looking at him he could glance at her right?

When Michael said both of them could leave, Pam went straight back at her desk while Jim headed to the break room. She hoped he stayed there until five, until they had to be in a room alone again. Pam shook her head. Life was too much like rooms; a series of rooms. And who she got stuck with in those rooms; added up to whatever her life would be.

Fate had a funny way of sticking her in rooms with Jim all the time.

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Jim glanced at the clock and wondered if it had stopped. He swore it had been 4:55 PM for ten minutes now. He kept wondering why Michael kept having those unexpected inventory spurs all of a sudden. As he carried more files into the conference room for him and Pam to sort a bit later, he took a glance at what she was doing.

Dwight and Oscar were leaving and passing her desk and Pam was on the phone. But by the tone of her voice it was anything but pleasant. He guessed it was Roy. He heard her slam the phone down and saw her put her head in her hands and he just stood there. It was the first time in a long time he didn't feel the need to come to her rescue.

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When Pam walked into the conference room and shut the door, Jim had to bite his tongue to prevent in asking her if she was ok or not. Which she clearly wasn't, but knowing Pam, it was just a fight with Roy. And Jim forced himself not to care, he was tired of caring and it not get him anywhere.

"Alphabetical?" she asked, her voice was tear streaked.

Jim nodded and his tongue got away from the clenching of his teeth. "Suddenly forget the alphabet Beesly?" He realized then he was just trying to get her to forgive him. But he didn't understand why; he hadn't done anything wrong.

He watched her for a moment as anger poured from her and she shifted quickly through the papers. She let them fly and fall from her hands as she went through them and Jim went against his better judgment and clasped her hands tightly.

"Hey whoa…" He said trying to get her to stop.

She did and looked at him for a moment, and then her glance traveled down to their hands.

He smiled suddenly. "Haven't you worked at a paper company for a while now? You'll get a paper cut."

It was so simple and sweet that Pam's angry glare faded and she smiled along with him. "I missed that in taking that college class, Paper Cuts 101."

He shrugged. They were still holding hands. "Well I'm sure you missed a few days. I think you weren't there that day when we got the colorful band aids."

She shook her head and suddenly realized her pinky was stinging. He must have noticed it too because he let go of one hand to take her other hand with both of his. Pam felt like her hands were so small compared to his. His were so soft and gentle. Nothing like Roy's; not rough and callused.

He picked up her hand and brought it close to his face. "Told you. You have a paper cut."

She shrugged and felt his breath close around her cut and enter her bloodstream; she wondered what her body would do when it realized she had Jim's oxygen in her.

"Luckily, I saw Dwight bring in Star Wars bandages." He smiled letting go of her hands for a moment to go and retrieve them. He kept trying to remember how many bandages it took to wrap around his heart after he kept letting her back in.

She smiled and sat in one of the chairs against the wall. "Right, lucky me."

Jim sat next to her and lifted her hand again; it had been cold without his touch. He gently wrapped it in a Jar Jar Binx band aid and smiled, seeing her little pinky bandaged up with such a thing.

"Will I be alright Dr. Jim?" she pouted like a five year old would at the doctor. But all he did was look at her.

"Do I get a lollypop or sticker?" she mocked and it got his attention perfectly.

He raised his eyebrows slowly. "Oh, mocking the Doctor that healed your wound?"

She shook her head and her smile faded. "It still hurts though doctor."

Jim smiled widely and took her hand once more. But this time he brought it to his lips and left a lingering kiss on it.

"Better?"

She only nodded. It was only a paper cut, but God, did it hurt.

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opinions are appricated not ignored HEARTSSSSS thanks for reading


	5. Games and Pastels

Chapter 5: Games and Pastels

"Ednit Burnson." Pam said slowly. She shifted on the floor trying to get in a comfortable position.

Jim turned in his spot a few inches away from her and looked at her. "That's a name?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded and handed him the paper which his eyes widened at and he set it among the piles on the floor. "Some cruel parents he had."

Pam snickered quietly. "That's a _girl's_ name Jim."

Jim stood and took a seat closer to her, letting his knee bump into her own every time he shifted to get another paper. "Right, just like Dwight's a _boy's_ name." He made the stressed sound on the word 'boy' as she did 'girl'. Just so she knew he was mocking her; just so she'd smile longer.

"Alright what do we have left?" he asked looking at the papers blanketing the floor.

"We're only on B Jim."

"What?" he whined and bucked his knees up and down a bit. She smiled at him and his adorable state. "Like the letter only after A?"

"Yes, well I mean there was like fifty for the last name of A so…" She shrugged. "At least we're on B now."

"Right, cause B is such a great letter." He rolled his eyes and he gave her a sideways head tilt.

She nodded in agreement. "A lot of great things start with B. Box, button...um..."

"I believe um starts with a U."

She nudged him in the side and continued going through words in her head. "Bears, beets, belt buckles…"

He grinned. "Bono…"

Pam started giggling and she suddenly looked at him surprised. "Um, hello? Beesely starts with B."

"And since when is Beesely such an amazing thing?" he made a face at her and looked confused.

She smiled. "Since always."

She got up and he nodded his head. Pam was right; she'd been amazing since the moment he met her.

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Jim sighed placing the last paper with the last name beginning with D on the stack labeled matte paper. "You want to take a break?"

"And miss putting," she looked at the paper. "Edward Eqiano in a pile? Maybe I'll wait."

Jim got up from his spot and walked over to where she was sitting and towered over her. "I'll get you a grape soda."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Well sweep me off my feet Jim Halpert, grape soda?"

He shook his head and held out his hand for her to take. "Keep pushing it Beesely, I'll never get you anything again."

She took his hand and stood. She then made a zipping motion with her fingers over her lips and he nodded. "That's more like it."

She followed him into the break room and took a seat and waited for him to sit down with her. When he did he slid her can towards her and it almost fell over onto her lap. "Let's play a game."

She popped open the can. "Ok, like what?"

"How about "Almost Honest.""

She took a sip as he opened his can. "What's that?"

"I'll say a word and you have to say the first word that comes to your head. There are no repeats and you have to be honest." He wondered if it was something she could do; be honest.

She nodded and he decided he'd start. "Ok… nobody."

_Nobody__ knew her like he did. _"Alone." She said. She had already lied, but Jim didn't seem to notice.

_Being __alone__ just made him want her more_. Jim shook his head. "Painting."

She was confused that painting had come to his mind when he thought of the word alone. Like maybe alone was how he thought she felt when she painted.

_Her __paintings__ always looked like him. _"Colors." At least she was sticking to her general thoughts. But by looking at his face, he was having trouble deciding what he should say.

_Colors__ seemed to fade when she cried. "_Fixing." He said suddenly. And then realized that had _nothing_ to do with what he was thinking. But it was easier to say and that seemed to be the general idea of the game now.

_He was always trying to __fix__ her. "_Knowing." That was the first time she'd been honest. Because her next thought was, _He knows I'm lying._

_He __knew__ she didn't really love Roy. _"Lies." He was being honest for a change.

_She felt like she had to __lie__ to Jim to prevent hurting him. _She shook her head and sighed. "Love."

_Pam_. He wondered when her name had replaced love in his head. "Passion."

_Jim_. His name seemed to have come so easily when he'd said passion. But she knew what she had to say; what she was obligated to say. "Roy."

The game stopped shortly after that.

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"I can't believe its eight." Pam looked at her watch and then shook it as if the time was wrong. "Have we really been here that long and are only on G?"

Jim shrugged and placed pile upon pile and placed them on the conference table. He hadn't said that much to her since they'd gathered back in their damn little room. He knew that every time he came in here now he'd think of her, sitting on the floor, trying to make small talk with him. He wasn't angry at her or anything he just felt extremely uncomfortable. Like the feeling he got when he was in a hot stuffy room or in a closed space. He wondered if she was the reason he felt claustrophobic all of a sudden.

"Jim…are you mad at me or something?" she stood again and he felt the sudden urge to push her back on the floor. He didn't want to look at her but he turned nonetheless.

He shook his head and gave her small smile. "What? No, why would I be mad at you?" It was a good question, seeing as he couldn't quite figure out the answer himself. "I'm just…tired."

"Well I mean, it is only eight."

"And I've been up since four." He said plainly.

She scrunched her eyebrows. "Four AM? Why?"

He shrugged again. Couldn't mention he kept thinking about her and that it had given him such a headache that he couldn't fall asleep. "I don't know, I guess I wasn't feeling well."

She nodded. "You know what I do when I can't fall asleep?"

He shook his head. He remembered she had called him once when she couldn't fall asleep. But she had to get off because Roy wanted to go to bed; like all of a sudden she couldn't go into another room to talk with him.

"I can only imagine."

She smiled. "I go outside…and I look at the moon." She said slowly.

He turned to lean against the table. He liked this side of her. The side of her that told him things new and that he knew were secretive. Like he could tell she never told Roy that she did this. It was something they just shared; like so many other things.

"Or the stars, because sometimes the moon isn't big enough…" she trailed off and shook her head. "Wow I sound stupid." She laughed at herself, which Jim was glad she could do.

"No." He smiled. "You never sound stupid to me. Do you draw anything?"

She nodded and leaned against the table next to him. He felt her bump her hip against his. "Sometimes. But I have other inspirations."

He raised his eyebrows. "Which are?"

Pam wanted to tell him he was her inspiration. All the time. The colors she used or the lines she drew, the paint she splattered and the pastels she blended. Everything was him; like it was a part of him she always had.

"Depends on the moment I guess." She always felt like she had to back out of anything that sounded like she was going to be too honest.

Jim just nodded and shrugged. "You have drawings with you?"

"Need another break?" she smiled.

He followed her to her desk and waited until she pulled a portfolio out from under her desk. He wondered if she always kept something like that under there.

"Do you have a circus tent under there too?" he asked.

She giggled. "Yes, along with an elephant and ring leader."

"I knew you had something to do with the missing ringleader and circus that was on the news."

She pulled out some drawings and pastel covered papers and he noticed she kept one specifically in the portfolio. "What about that one?" he motioned to the one she was hiding.

"What? Oh that ones not…" she looked embarrassed and it honestly confused him. Was she worried that he wouldn't like it or he'd judge it or something?

"Pam, come on. You know I'd never judge you." But all she did was shrug and look even further humiliated; if that was even possible.

Pam felt bad not showing him it, because then it was like she didn't trust him or something. Or that she didn't believe that he'd never judge her.

"Please?" he asked gently.

She finally nodded and handed him the portfolio. He cleared his throat and pulled out a thicker piece of paper than the others were. His fingers grazed across the surface of the pastel covered paper. It was a picture of a girl sitting in rose petals and lavender. The strokes of maroon and violet blended across the page and her eyes were a glistening blue. The girl's hair was curly and brown and he wondered how she could give people such texture and beauty.

Pastels reminded Jim so much of Pam. They were soft and came in vibrant colors. And when touched, some of the color always came off on fingers and sometimes got on clothes. Which is what Pam always was. She was like the chalky pastel that wouldn't come off his fingers or clothes no matter how many times he washed them.

"Why wouldn't you want to show this to me?" he was hurt and it was evident in his voice.

"I just…I don't think it's finished. I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to hurt him and she hoped he kept looking over the drawing. That way he wouldn't see the real answer in her eyes.

He shrugged and looked at her. "So what was your inspiration for this Beesley?"

He smiled and she felt like she was breaking. "You kind of were."

"Me?" He actually pointed to himself.

She nodded embarrassed the words had poured from her mouth so easily and took the drawing from his hands and put it back in the portfolio, leaving the others behind on her desk.

"We have names to pile."

He nodded as she headed back into the conference room. The thing about pastels was they broke so easily.

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i'd appricate your opinion and what you think thanks for reading as always 3


	6. paintings

Chapter 6: Paintings

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

Jim poked his head out from the conference room. He wondered who could have been calling around 11 PM to a paper company.

"Oh hey Roy…no my cell is fine why?" he watched her pull her cell phone from her pocket and place it on her desk. "Oh damn I hadn't realized it had died, sorry I didn't even notice. Jim and I have been so swamped with papers and clients."

He watched her twirl the phone cord in her hands and forced himself to go back into the conference room and not eavesdrop on the entire conversation. He tried convincing himself that placing Gloria Kittleson into a pile was way more interesting.

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After ten minutes, Pam wasn't back in the conference room yet and Gloria Kittleson and every name he'd done after that was starting to lose his interest; not that he had a lot to begin with. He placed the last of the K's in the white paper pile and headed out to her desk. She was just getting off the phone when he leaned on the counter and he tapped the candy dispenser against his hand. She never had anything but jelly beans and as he popped a few in his mouth he wondered if she did it just for him.

"Roy?" he asked, his tongue tasting a mixture of cherry and lemon.

She nodded. "He's going up to the lake on Thursday with his brother. Won't be back till Monday."

Jim nodded. "Should be fun."

"I guess, I'm not going."

Jim's face scrunched up in confusion. "What? Why?"

She sighed taking his hand for a moment to take some jelly beans from him. He tried to ignore the fact she chose to touch his hand and get them that way instead of reaching into the dispenser. "Roy needs a little break I guess, from us, from work, everything."

Jim almost laughed. _Roy_ needed a break from _Pam_? That's like saying Dwight needed a break from Michael and ass kissing. He wondered if she knew how much bullshit that was and was about to tell her so.

But she said it herself. "It's bullshit."

She'd already admitted it so why not agree right along with her. "Yeah, only a lot Pam." She shouldn't have to put up with it, with him. "Did you tell Roy what you thought?"

"I didn't want bother him or anything." She shrugged, deep down she knew Roy wouldn't have really heard her any way.

Right, because bothering him with her thoughts and feelings would be unheard of. It's not like they were supposed to be married or anything. Jim felt his teeth clench down on his tongue and bottom lip to prevent him from sputtering that.

Jim shook his head and tried to move away from the topic before his tongue started bleeding or his mouth said things he'd regret later. "Hey you don't mind if I borrow some of those drawings and pastels do you? I've talked about your drawings to Mark before and those would be the perfect ones to show him."

He hoped he had sounded somewhat convincing, and it's not like he was lying all the way. He really did want to show Mark her work, but then again he wanted to show everyone. She nodded and took her portfolio out from under her desk and handed it to Jim.

"Just give them back when you're done."

"Damn really? I was going to add them to my shrine in my basement." Jim smirked putting the brown portfolio on his desk.

"You have a shrine?" Pam's eyes widened just as big as her smile.

"Yes, candles and all. Come on I know you have one too." He leaned on the counter again and she brought her hands close to her face and rested her elbows on the counter. It was then he realized her hands were close enough to hold.

"Actually I do to…but it's for Elvis."

He nodded. "Well that's understandable."

"You don't have a cult do you?"

"Yes, it's called The Pam Cult." He shrugged. "Obviously."

She giggled and he could feel her breath on his hands. She rose from her desk and his hands were freezing all of a sudden.

"We should get those names finished."

He nodded and grabbed a few jelly beans and followed her into the conference room. He glanced on his desk at the portfolio as she closed the door. He shook his head; no he didn't have a shrine but he did have a picture of her by his bed.

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It was Wednesday when Jim thought of the jelly beans again and rose to approach Pam's desk to grab a few.

"Hey, how are you?"

Pam shrugged. "Ok, I guess." She wasn't ok, she practically watched Roy pack up his bags and head off to the lake this morning. She felt like he was leaving for good; packing up his life right in front of her. He was only going to lake for six days but it felt like he wasn't coming back. And the thing that upset her most is that she didn't know how she felt about it. She should have been distraught, her soon to be husband leaving her for a break of six days. The only six day break should have breaking _her_. But it wasn't and she knew something was wrong.

"Hey, I'm sure things will be alright." Jim said wanting to choke on his words.

She shrugged again. "I guess." She didn't know whether she actually wanted things to be okay, to be fixed.

He wondered if she could only say the words 'I guess' now. He decided to try his luck. "I was wondering, I got tickets to this art gallery an hour out of Scranton. And since I'm art illiterate, do you wanna go?"

She looked up suddenly and a small smile tugged the sides of her mouth. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to take…"

He could tell she had no one to suggest and was just trying to be polite. "Who? Oh you mean Kevin? Sadly, no he has golf and basketball to watch."

She giggled. "No I mean like, are you sure you wouldn't want to take a….date instead?"

It was funny really. Except the kind of funny someone finds peculiar instead of hilarious. Jim _was_ asking her to be his date. But she'd never pick up something like that, or if she did she'd ignore it. "No, I'd rather take you."

Pam looked down and hesitated, trying to find words that resembled yes or no.

Jim shifted from foot to foot trying to decide he should jump in before she said no. "I mean, as I said before if I went by myself I'd be wondering around like lost toddler, I know nothing about art. I mean if you don't want to go…"

"I'd love to go Jim."

He smiled as she looked up and gave him her brightest smile. He walked back to his desk and smiled again, receiving an IM from her.

PBeesly: You're a great friend Jim. :)

Jim looked at the screen for a moment. Yeah he was a _great_ friend; one that was trying too hard to be a hell of a lot more.

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Jim struggled to fix his black tie. The gallery he was taking Pam to required something a little dressier than his work clothes. He knocked on Pam's door and suddenly felt a knot grip his stomach. He felt like Roy was suddenly going to swing open the door and pummel him. He kept feeling like he was slipping; falling more deeply in love with her. But stopping himself was like trying to stop a freight train with greased brakes. And when she opened the door and she was dressed in a gold glittered gown; he decided he really didn't care anymore.

"You look…" he faltered.

"Nice?" she smiled.

He nodded, his mouth was suddenly dry. "Right nice, that's the—that's the word I was looking for."

Pam stepped out of the doorway and fixed his collar and ran her hand down his tie. "You clean up nicely Halpert." She grinned.

"Well I try, took a shower and everything." He smiled feeling her hand through his layers of clothes.

Pam held open the door for him and he stood there for a moment. It felt wrong going into her home without Roy being there. He hated to feel like he was intruding when he really wasn't. Nonetheless he walked through the door and waited for her to grab her purse.

She did so and he followed her right back out. She turned to look at him when they boarded the elevator and her eyes were shining. It was even brighter than the light reflected of the glittery gold on her dress.

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"Do you know this one?" Jim asked approaching a painting. He watched as she looked at it for a moment and read the artist statement next to the art. She'd been doing this for two hours now. He'd point out a painting that he liked the color or texture of and she'd take a look at it and tell him something interesting about the artist or the piece. She took his simple observation and turned it into something beautiful and interesting. He wondered how she did that; took something no matter what it was she touched or looked at and made it into something stunning.

"Yeah, Henri Matisse. Aren't his brush strokes beautiful?"

"Yeah, really beautiful." He responded but he wasn't looking at the painting when he said it. He was looking at her.

She pointed along the canvas careful not to let her finger graze along the piece titled, "Purple Robe." "He makes so much texture with such little paint sometimes. I've always wanted to do something liked that."

She was even more beautiful when she talked about something she loved.

"Well I bet you could, seeing you're other paintings I mean." He blushed. Looking at her other paintings he was sure she could do anything.

She smiled. "Well I need to start taking up some more art classes. After that I'm hoping to make a series of paintings and put them in a gallery. But knowing I couldn't even get the ones I had in one, I have forever to go."

Jim shrugged his shoulders and grabbed her hand for a moment taking her around a bend. "You'd be surprised how short forever is sometimes."

She smiled and enjoyed the warm feeling in her stomach. "Where are we going?"

"It's late. The gallery closes in an hour, there's an exhibit that I need you to see." He answered pulling her through the maze of people.

Jim pulled her past a few paintings Pam wished she could stop and look at but she knew Jim wanted her to see something important so she let him drag her every which way until she nearly bumped into him when he stopped.

He turned blocking her view from the art. "Ok, read the artist statement and then tell me about the art."

She nodded and looked for the statement, which was across from the art. She gasped and turned to look at Jim, who was standing behind her, hands in his pockets and beaming.

"Jim, it says my name on the artist statement."

He nodded. "I know. Looks like that's you're art too."

She hadn't even looked at the wall with her art on it. But then there it was all of the paintings and pastels and drawings she'd had in that portfolio.

"Jim how did you…" She was speechless and all she could do was look at her art against the wall, under the small strobe lights on the ceiling. She could feel tears fill up against her eyelids, but for once they were happy. And she knew if she looked at Jim, they'd fall and she'd be extremely embarrassed. Leave it to her to be over emotional.

"I heard about the new exhibits they were putting up. My cousin works here and she gives me pamphlets all the time. They needed new art, I showed my cousin your stuff and she said she'd put it up. It'll be up for three weeks."

Pam turned suddenly and hugged him as hard as humanly possible. She didn't care if it was embarrassing to her or to any other person walking around looking at art. They were looking at her art too. _Her_ art. Jim seemed surprised but didn't wait another moment before slipping his arms around her waist to squeeze her tightly as she was doing with the arms around his neck.

"Jim thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me."

Well, actually he did. Which is why he did it and after all _she_ had no idea how much she meant to him. He just nodded and didn't want to let go of her.

As she pulled back slowly her arms stayed around his neck and he did the same with his arms. Their noses started to touch, because even though their bodies were pulling away slightly didn't mean their heads weren't inching foreword. She grazed her lips against his and he felt his heartbeat thump erratically in his chest. All this because he'd put her art up?

He smiled somewhat awkwardly. "All this because—"

His question was short lived, she was kissing him again. What was it with Pam Beesely and jumping people with kisses? Did she do this with everyone? Jim moved his lips along with hers and deepened the kiss. Maybe he was only so lucky.

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i'm not getting many reviews so i'm guessing somethings wrong with the story? i hope people are enjoying it!


	7. Wine and Keys

this chapter isn't so long and i'm really sorry about that. thanks for all the amazing comments. once again sorry its short. i've been working on a national treasure story, which is called, "Formatia trans sicere educatorum" if you want to check it out

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Chapter 7: Wine and keys

After he had shown Pam her artwork corner he bought her a few drinks at the bar. It kind of surprised him that there was a bar in an art gallery but he guessed if there could be bars in airports it wasn't long before there was one everywhere. He honestly didn't mind that, especially if Pam kept kissing him out of the blue like this.

"You want something to drink?" he asked her and she nodded. "What do you want?"

Sex on the beach came to mind and Pam blushed. "Um just a white wine. What are you getting?"

"I'm more of a red wine person myself." He smiled at her and turned towards the bar.

Red wines were always too bitter for her to handle. She licked her lips suddenly and she realized how bitter Jim actually tasted. She wondered why she never noticed it before.

He handed her the white wine glass and motioned her to sit at one of the tables. "Why do you like red wine?"

He shrugged. "The grapes are bitterer." Plus red wine always reminded him of passion.

She smiled taking a sip of her wine. "Is bitterer a word?"

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Ok fine, why do you like white wine?"

Pam realized she didn't know how to answer that. She honestly didn't know why she liked white over the red. Maybe it was because that was all she ever had or because that was the wine she had chosen for the wedding. All the answers that popped up in her head didn't seem to answer the question.

"I don't know. I just never liked reds." Reds always reminded her of lust and passion and it was ironic to her for Jim to love red wines over white.

"Well I never liked the whites, they're too sweet." He smiled. White reminded him too much of pure things. Like weddings and honesty. He never was really committed to be being honest with anything. Except with Pam, he was somehow always honest with her.

On each of their third glasses, Jim pushed the red towards her. "You're always afraid of trying anything. Try this." He had to cool down on drinking anyway, if he wanted to drive her home.

She downed the rest of her white wine and picked up his glass. When she held it up to her face she saw his lip prints on the rim of the glass. She decided she'd put her lips exactly where his had been, it'd be like sweet tasting bitter. She drank half his glass before giving it back to him and he smiled drinking what little she left.

"Was it good?" he asked.

She nodded even though her tongue was numb. She never really paid attention to what kind of wine she was drinking. The first thing she ever noticed was the color; whether it was white or red. Knowing the color always helped her determine if she would like it or not because besides color, red and white were very different.

White was a matter or love, but red was a matter of sex. She always had been afraid of tasting red wine and its bitterness. That is, until Jim had pushed his glass towards her.

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"Well apparently someone can't hold their liquor." Jim commented as he held onto Pam's arm as they left the gallery.

"We were drinking liquor too?" Pam asked leaning into him.

Jim just smiled and enjoyed her pushing herself closer on him. He led her to the car and leaned her against it. "Give me a minute to get me keys out ok?"

She was too busy giggling to answer and he unlocked the car and motioned her to get into the back.

"Lay down in the back ok? I'm taking you home."

Pam shook her head. She didn't want to go home. Home didn't smell like he did. It smelled of Roy and things she was too afraid to face or end. No, she wouldn't go home and when Jim wasn't looking she stashed her keys in the pocket against the passenger seat. She then sat up suddenly and pulled on his dress shirt making him fall off balance and nearly on top of her in the backseat.

"Pam I need to drive the car and I can't do that if I'm back here."

Who said she wanted him to drive the car anyways? She interrupted his drone filled talking with her lips. She couldn't get enough of him all of a sudden. She needed his bitterness to fill her blood. She was so tired of tasting sweet anymore.

After kissing her for what seemed like hours Jim finally managed to pull himself from her and place himself in the front seat. He smoothed out his shirt and ran a hand over his face and hair. He kind of wished Pam would let go of her inhibitions more often, at least she was honest in what she wanted.

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He arrived at Pam's apartment and tried waking her to ask where her keys were. "Pam, were at your apartment."

He shook her arm and again she wouldn't budge. He finally gave up on looking for them and drove to his house. It wasn't like Roy was expecting her home anyway.

Once he pulled in his driveway he let the car run for a moment. It was colder than it had been recently and he just sat there enjoying the cars warmth. He looked in the review mirror and saw Pam shift uncomfortably and sit up half way. He wondered what would happen if he chose to ask her about her keys? Would she tell him where they were? Did he really want to here it? Would she lie and forget where she had put them or would he not ask at all and take her inside?

"You awake?" he asked.

She looked at him and her makeup was slightly off her eyes and on her cheeks. She nodded and turned to get out of the car. He got out and held her arm while he led her to the front of the house.

When they went inside Pam sat on his couch and he went to get her a blanket and a washcloth.

"Here let me…" She was swaying from side to side and he grabbed her chin gently. "Get this…"

He kneeled in front of her and tenderly wiped the warm washcloth across her face to remove the makeup caking her cheeks. It looked like bruises and he wondered if she knew that. Knew how easily he could take her bruises away.

She pushed her face against the cloth even though it felt like sandpaper. She felt her mouth asking him that but he just shook his head and smiled sweetly.

"Did you like the art show?" he asked her, but didn't know why he bothered. She wouldn't understand him or wouldn't remember being asked.

"I've always liked art." She said slurring a bit. "I've always liked a lot of things."

He nodded finishing up with her face. "Why don't we get you some water and a trash can."

He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a glass of water and a waste can basket. He sat next to her this time and watched as she took off her shoes and placed her shawl on top of it. "You haven't even taken your coat off yet."

He looked down and shrugged. "I can wait."

"For everything?" She asked and he looked at her. She felt his eyes on her and she wondered if he wanted her to look up too. She was afraid if she looked up and stared into his eyes long enough she'd get lost. It was easy to get lost in Jim; she always had a hard time when she had to come back.

He nodded and stood. "For everything. Drink up and use that trash can if you start to feel sick."

He then disappeared upstairs and she heard a door close. His bedroom door. She then wondered what it felt like to be on the other side when the door was shut. He came back down too quickly and it was then when she felt like the whole room was spinning. The last thing she saw was Jim's concerned face as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach and she turned to empty the contents of it in the trash can. Jim was then next to her and had a hand on her back, stroking up and down, trying to make her feel comforted.

She wondered what could be so comforting about bile that wouldn't leave her mouth, even when she wasn't sick. The kind that reminded her of what she's doing wrong and the mistakes she made.

He didn't seem to notice it had been there the whole time. She sat back up and leaned against the couch. Her forehead was shining with sweat and the leather of the couch felt like ice against her back.

She didn't remember when he had a cold cloth in his hands but suddenly he did and he was wiping her brow and face with it. Jim always had things she needed. And his hands were soft, _always_. Not wet and cold and grabbing. Just soft against her; in her hair, on her skin.

Jim shook his head as she began to fall asleep on the couch. He covered her with the blanket and pushed the trash can closer to her in case she woke up needing it. And he'd stay there, in case she woke up needing him.

He looked at her for a moment and wondered where her purse had gone. When he realized she had left it in the car he went out to get it. He searched through the back seat and found it shoved under the passenger seat. And as he rose to leave he saw something shiny at the bottom of the pocket on the back of the chair.

He threw her apartment keys on the table in front of the couch. He wanted her to know that he'd found them, wanted her to know how happy he'd been that she hid them from him. But she was plastered and he knew it, so she'd wake up and all of this would be an accident. The throwing up in the trash can, the hiding of the apartment keys, the wine drinking, and the kiss in the gallery. Everything. Because with Pam all there was were accidents. He was starting to figure that out and all he did was try to convince her that it was ok to do things on purpose. A lot of things mattered more when done on purpose.

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if you have something to say, leave a review


	8. The Morning after

thank you for the recent comments!

especially **purplefirestarter, maddikinz940, Bright-Lights-4,Benjamin87, rubycaspar, beet-JAM, ktee1026 literaryfreak, dancer288, DeanParadise, Mrs. Fitzgerald, leahreads, kerber1920. **if i missed anyone i'm sorry i only went back so far. but thank you too!

sorry this chapter is short, i'm fighting writers block.

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Chapter 8: The Morning After

When Jim saw Pam starting to stir on the couch he went into the kitchen and got her a cup of coffee. When he came back in and sat down in front of her she had sat all the way up and was leaning against the back of the couch.

Pam looked from the coffee to Jim and he nodded at it, asking her to take it. She did so and lifted the cup from the table and brought it to her lips. She wondered how early it was but looking at Jim she could tell it was late. All too late. The coffee and its sickly strong smell stung her nostrils and felt like molasses dripping down her throat, but it felt better than the bile she had tasted the night before. She looked down and realized she was still in her dress from the gallery and for some reason she was worried about the wrinkles in it. Wrinkles were so easy to make and sometimes were easy to get out, but there were some that no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get rid of. She was afraid that this dress would be one of them, one of the many wrinkles in her clothes that wouldn't leave, especially since the memories stayed in the creases and refused to depart.

As she was putting the cup back down she saw them. Her keys were on the coffee table and she knew he had found them; knew he wanted her to _know_ he'd found them.

"Jim…" she started but then stopped. Her voice was quivering and it sounded unfamiliar to her.

Jim didn't seem to notice and he picked up where she stopped talking. "Found your keys."

It was a simple statement and it took her by surprise. She just looked at him and then looked down at her wrinkled dress.

"You know if we would have been playing an Easter egg hunt you would have done really well." He said and sat down in the chair across from her.

"Jim I-I never—"

He just shook his head at her. She never _meant_ to do anything and that's what killed him. Maybe if she did some things she meant to do she'd be happier.

"I asked you where your keys were Pam."

Now it was her turn to shake her head. He hadn't asked her for anything. She had felt him look for her keys, but looking and asking were completely different. "I was drunk Jim."

He nodded. He wondered if she used this excuse all the time when she woke up with a headache and fuzzy thoughts of the previous night. She'd been drunk the night she'd kissed him at the Dundies and he wondered if that was just a routine of hers that she'd gotten so used to.

"And sooner or later Pam that excuse is just gonna stop working."

"It's not an excuse." She had to be careful. She was starting to be fooled by her own masquerade.

He shook his head and stood making his way over to the couch. He wondered if he should get the dictionary before he sat down again to make sure she knew what 'excuse' meant.

"What if Roy would have been home Pam and you didn't come home?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned foreword to reach for her shoes. She had too much of a headache and not enough coffee in her to listen to him right now.

"Do you know how fast he would have come over here to kick my ass and not give a second thought about it?"

She strapped her shoes and straightened her dress. "Roy's not even home Jim, he comes back Monday! And in case you've forgotten this has nothing to do with Roy!"

"You know what you're right!" he was practically screaming now. But for some reason when he was around her all he felt like doing was screaming. It wasn't her fault really, when she was near him his blood felt like boiling. "But it has everything to do with you!"

Pam was staring at him and it made him feel like he'd gotten to her somehow. Like he had hit a nerve that made her understand and see a bit more clearly.

"So this is all my fault." She said sarcastically and picked up her shawl and purse from the ground.

He shook his head and sighed. "No, not all of it. Hiding your keys because you got wasted at an art gallery was your fault."

"It's so like you to make a joke out of everything Jim." She threw the shawl around her shoulders and as she grabbed her keys to head out the door he grabbed her arm gently and spun her around.

She hadn't realized how close she was until he had done so. If they were any closer, their pelvises would be touching, along with their chests and heads. Any closer they'd be one person.

"Ok wait a second." He said. "What if I told you…hypothetically speaking, that the reason I make so many jokes, especially when they shouldn't be said, is just a cover up for the fact that I have no idea what to say in a serious situation."

And it was true. His tongue always seemed to tie up when something important came up, until his brain devised a clever joke to fill in instead.

She shook her head and wished he'd let go of her arm, or at least squeeze it harder so she'd lost the feeling.

"I'd tell you grow up." She said harshly. It came out crueler than she had intended and that's when she realized she hadn't meant to say that at all to him.

What if she told him…hypothetically speaking, that the reason she hid behind Roy was because she really did love Jim and when she realized that sometimes she didn't know what to do. And knowing that Roy was strong and was a perfect excuse to hide behind, she did.

He nodded and let go of her arm, maybe it really was time to grow up and stop thinking of this fairytale romance with her. Jim noticed now that when he had turned her around to face him her shawl had fallen from her shoulder and he grazed her skin as he slid the soft fabric back up to cover her. He then let his hand sit there to pull her closer to him and he left the smallest kiss on her cheek.

Pam felt his lips linger on her for a few seconds. And as the seconds started to feel like hours she felt her blood rise to where his lips had been. It was almost as if he'd left a gash and now her blood was rushing to the surface and leaving the wound, draining her.

Pam shakily exhaled as he pulled back from her. With every fiber of her being she wanted him to lean closer again because then he wouldn't be so far away and she wouldn't feel bad about reaching out to kiss him. But as she looked into his eyes and his hand remained on her shoulder she realized that he wasn't that far away.

But before Pam had any say in the matter of what she wanted to do with her lips, Jim's were already on hers. And it was different than anything she had ever felt. It wasn't rough, needy or sadistic and she pushed herself farther into his grasp and his arms came to be around her waist. She pulled on the t-shirt he had worn to sleep and she felt him push the shawl from her shoulders.

But she wasn't cold, not even for a second.

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Reviewing is nice, in case you haven't caught on. SMILE lol


	9. Transcript

Chapter 9: Transcript

Pam couldn't describe what was happening to her as she was kissing Jim, but she couldn't stop. She'd never felt anything like this before and it was an intense affair. And she knew she'd never felt anything like it because she'd remember something that made her entire body smolder. He was like an infection, he made her body burn and there was nothing she could do to cool herself down. Not until he left her system completely.

"Jim…" she stopped. "Can um…I have some water?"

He looked at her for a moment; trying to decide if she was serious. "Yeah, sure."

She followed him into the kitchen and waited until he handed her the water. She downed the entire glass the second she got it, but the fire didn't cease. It was if the water added to its rage as it burned through her body.

"Are you okay?" he asked her placing the glass in the sink.

She didn't know, she'd never felt this way before. After being with Roy she trained herself to stop feeling. "I should get home."

Maybe he was pushing his luck. "Roy doesn't get back till Monday." Was he really going to be that guy? The one who inferred he'd be the back up? The one that if she needed him would be there and take advantage of it?

He could tell after he'd said it that he'd never be that guy, she wouldn't let him. "I can walk or you can drive me." The nagging feeling was back now and she'd thought she'd lost it.

He wanted her to walk home. "Let me get my keys and make sure you have yours this time. Don't try to hide them in the couch or anything." He said that somewhat harshly and for once he didn't look back to see her reaction because he could feel her eyes reaching him like daggers.

Pam knew she'd reverted back to form and she wasn't sure how to get herself back because she thought she fixed it, fixed herself. At that moment she realized she hadn't fixed anything, she'd just swept it under the rug and hoped it wouldn't find her. "What are trying to say?"

He turned and slipped a sweatshirt over his head. He wondered if she really didn't understand or was just playing stupid. "I've memorized this conversation Pam. I think I have the transcript." It was the same thing with her all the time and he was sick of it.

She knew she'd changed; she was hurt more easily and felt hyper sensitive to everything he said. She looked at him till he looked at her and she longed his touch. "All right then since you know so much, what am I trying to say?" She crossed her arms over her chest, like it would somehow block him from reading her.

She was scared; a coward and he could think of so many other words to describe her with. "You're trying to say that last night never happened, and that even though you didn't mean to…" he shrugged. ", didn't want to, you kissed me."

Little things she thought had lost their sparks; they didn't. They were just waiting till it was dark enough to shine the brightest. "Your right I had meant to kiss you. Was that in your transcript? Am I following my lines?"

She wasn't and it was odd to him. He had the feeling like she was playing with him, saying things so out of character for her that he'd feel messed up inside. "Are you going to tell Roy?" He answered her with another question, one he was pretty sure he knew the answer of.

She smirked and rolled her eyes, it was very unlike her and Jim felt like he hadn't woken up to the same person he knew last night. "Are you?"

He wondered what her reaction would be if he told her yes because he had every intention of doing so. "I might."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding because she hadn't expected him to say that. "You'll ruin my marriage."

Jim's eyes grew wide and he let out a short laugh. "I'll mess it up? Look around Pam, open your eyes. If anything ruins your marriage it's the person you're getting married to."

She was shocked and she felt her hands turn into fists at her side. "What?"

"Let's just put it this way, if your marriage was going to be so great would Roy be up at the lake right now? Would you be here?" He was trying to make her see things she was too clouded to realize, things too scared to admit.

Pam bit the inside of her cheek trying to keep the tears inside her eyes. She wouldn't let him see how upset he'd made her but as she thought about it, it wasn't Jim's fault. He was just telling her things she'd tried to ignore.

"Please just take me home." She whimpered and Jim felt it shock his entire system. She looked to the floor and he raised her chin trying to get her to look at him.

He nodded, running his thumb over where the tears were on her face. "I'll take you home."

He pulled her into his chest and she cried loudly into his sweatshirt, hoping to muffle the sounds. She liked to pretend that he didn't know the real reason she was crying, that it was something he hadn't made her do. That her secrets were in her tears and they were embedded into his sweatshirt forever and that he'd never know to look.

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The drive to her apartment seemed longer than it should have been. Maybe because Jim was driving slower or the silence in the car seemed like forever. Neither of them could pinpoint it and just sat there waiting for the other to say something. It wasn't until they had reached her home that she finally opened her mouth.

"Thanks." Was all she said and pulled her keys from her purse. She tried to make him see that she had her keys, like last night wasn't a big mistake like she was letting on.

He nodded and watched her walk inside. It wasn't until he had realized he had a response and parked his car and ran inside it catch her. He ran up the stairs and knocked on her door and saw the elevator door open, she hadn't reached her room yet.

"Did you run all the way up here?" she asked unlocking the door.

He nodded and tried catching his breath, but maybe the lack of oxygen wasn't from the stairs.

Pam waited at the doorway and wouldn't let him pass. He would have laughed if his sides hadn't hurt so much. "Is there suddenly an anti-Jim barrier?" he quirked.

She didn't smile and turned to close the door. He put his hand on the door, stopping her. He might have not been allowed in, but he could still tell her what he wanted to say. But then again maybe it had nothing to do with talking. He reached his arm out around her waist and pulled her to him. And before she could complain he crushed her mouth with his trying to block out the words he knew she was going to say. He did love her and even though she denied it, she loved him. Their lips intertwined and meshed until they couldn't breathe. It was _still_ not close enough, because no matter what they did, they were never close enough.

Pam pulled away and shook off the fire blazing through her body. She backed up into her apartment and shut the door on him. It was exactly what she had expected him to do and she realized that's why she hadn't let him in. Because even though he didn't know it, she had memorized the transcript too, and she had loved where it was going and where they could go.

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ok, chapter 10 is coming up :D i have a question i would like some feedback from. would you like jim to tell roy? yes or no? as always thanks for reading!


	10. Secret's Out

Thanks to everyone for the AMAZING reviews and ideas. Hope you enjoy:D

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Chapter 10: Secrets Out

Jim pushed Pam against the counter as she was trying to make tea.

"Jim stop…" Pam said playfully trying to push him away.

Jim shrugged his arms around her waist. "No one is here, were here early if you haven't noticed."

Pam smiled but looked out the break room's door; paranoid. "Roy's downstairs—"

He cut her off by pressing his mouth on hers and suddenly she wasn't worrying about much anymore. After Pam had shut the door in his face on Friday he didn't give up. He showed up outside her door everyday, waiting to apologize. It wasn't until Roy had finally come home that she was outside _his_ door.

Pam didn't like the idea of sneaking around Roy but she couldn't shake the amazing feeling she got when she was with Jim. She was going to tell Roy, but she couldn't find the right time to tell him. It was mostly silent when she was around him, he was different. She couldn't help but feel like it was her fault, after all a conversation took two people for it to work.

She haphazardly put the tea cup back in the sink and pushed herself farther onto Jim. Both of them were so focused on each other and the kiss that they had no time to contemplate the break room door opening. Angela walked in and froze and they broke apart too late.

A look of disgust and an 'Oh my God' was all that was said. But that was all it took. Jim and Pam watched as Angela left and looked at each other finally stepping apart from each other; looked like the secret was getting told one way or the other.

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Pam paced nervously in the break room as coworkers started to fill the office. Jim rubbed his temples and kept looking out the break room door watching Angela. He kept thinking she was going to tell everyone who walked through the door or that somehow Roy had already heard the secret and was coming up there to kill him.

"Stop pacing." Jim said and she halted looking at him.

"We were stupid to do this at work Jim."

He rolled his eyes. "She's not going to tell Roy, she's too uptight." But the pit in his stomach warned him otherwise.

"Are we still talking about the same person?" Pam exclaimed but lowered her voice. "This is Angela here; she's the one who 'reported' me to Michael when my paint spilled in the sink. She had a fit."

"I believe I covered that with uptight." Jim quipped.

Pam shoved him in the arm and he just looked at her. "This isn't funny Jim, if Roy finds out…"

"Won't be so fun anymore would it?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" she threw back at him.

Jim looked down; maybe he shouldn't have said anything. But when he looked up at her expectant face he had to say something, hell he was on a roll with saying the wrong thing anyways.

"I'm just saying that you _like_ this whole thing being a secret. It's easier especially if it falls out. You don't have to be let down; you have Roy to fall back on."

Pam couldn't really tell if he was serious. Was this what he thought she wanted? Wanted to have her feelings so far pushed for someone that she risked spending her life with someone else?

"Roy wasn't a back up; I was going to tell him."

Jim nodded; he knew who the back up really was. "Well now is the perfect time to tell him. Unless you want it to come from Angela."

He wished he could just tell Roy. The thing was though, it wasn't his place. Hell it was never his place. All this time he kept thinking that he belonged in a certain place with her, but he didn't. He was just standing in somebody else's spot and sooner or later he was going to get pushed from it, especially if he opened his big mouth to Roy. Then it wouldn't even be Roy shoving him, it'd be Pam.

Pam just nodded and grabbed his hand to squeeze it. She never had a lot of courage before and she wondered if she held his hand long enough he could transfer some to her. "I'll tell him."

Jim nodded. He just hoped her courage kicked itself into high gear before Angela's inability to mind her own business did it for her.

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Angela walked downstairs to the warehouse. Of course Toby wasn't in yet so she couldn't complain to him. But she had to complain to somebody and he was the only person left. She shook her head and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. Didn't those two know _any_ better? This was a working office not a brothel. Although with Pam being the office mattress that she was, she couldn't honestly say she was surprised.

She saw Roy and Michael in the back near the shelves and walked over and waited till they were done.

"I need to talk with you." Angela said as Michael turned around. "In private."

"Oooh kinky." Michael observed rudely. Nonetheless he headed over to where Angela pointed.

"Jim and Pam need to be reported." She said firmly. She watched as Michael contemplated her words and saw Roy lift a few boxes into the air. He had nice arms to say the least and she wondered what Pam saw in Jim.

"Did they do something to Dwight? Because he's always coming into my office complaining about Jim. I think it's a little more than that you know what I'm saying?" Michael raised his eyebrows up and down and Angela just looked at him in amazement.

She wondered if she smacked her boss up along the side of his head for stupidity if she'd get reported.

"No Michael. Jim and Pam were performing rude gestures in the break room."

"The big S?" Michael asked. "Right in the break room?"

That time she did smack him but sadly not as hard as she wanted and right on his arm. She wondered if he could get his head out of the gutter long enough to hear what she was saying.

"No Michael, I'm just saying they were being inappropriate, that's all. This is an office and the office has rules; not that many people remember. I just don't feel like I can work here if I come in and Pam and Jim and making out in the break room!" she finished heatedly.

Michael's mouth opened so wide she wondered if he dislocated his jaw. "They were making out?" he asked in a surprised whisper.

"Do something about it, or I will."

Angela left a surprised Michael, covering his mouth in an attempt to settle himself down and a very very pissed off Roy; who had heard everything when he had shifted boxes on the other side of the aisle where they had been standing.

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Pam shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her. She hadn't recognized how many times Jim and her could have gotten caught. Someone could have been at the same art show as them, or saw them in the parking lot, or drove by Jim's house that night or were walking by Pam's apartment. Millions of little moments seemed to flash by in her head but then she realized that it hadn't been this past week that would have set people off. She and Jim were always close to one another. Sharing jokes, eating lunch, pranking Dwight, crying and laughing. They did almost everything together. So if people had found out about them, it wasn't because they had been kissing. It was because of how they've always been.

"Hey…" Jim waved in front of her face. "You know its like past five now."

She shook her head and looked at the time. "Where does the day go?" she asked quietly gathering her things.

"Roy driving you home I'm guessing?" Jim asked holding her coat open for her to slip it on.

She nodded. "Yeah, I haven't heard from him all day so I'm guessing he hasn't heard yet."

Jim couldn't help but feel guilty about the thought that popped into his head. He wanted to tell her how he wished Roy would have found out because then they could really be together. But Roy knowing would only benefit him and Jim realized that after he thought about it for a moment. Because wouldn't Roy yelling at Pam cause her grief? That's not what Jim wanted; the last thing he wanted. He shook the dilemma off his head and waited for Pam to get her things.

Jim walked Pam through the parking lot to her car. "You waiting for Roy here?"

She nodded and looked at her watch. "He should be here by now though."

"You want me to wait?" Jim asked shifting from foot to foot. Something uncomfortable was shaking his muscles and he found it hard to stand still.

She shook her head. "No you should head home. I'll call you though when Roy goes out for bowling."

"Does he leave every night?" Jim asked although the answer was pretty apparent.

"It's only for an hour or so." She shrugged. "It's not a big deal anymore."

He could tell it was, or at least it had been and he leaned foreword leaving a kiss on her forehead.

She smiled but pushed him away. "Haven't we learned are lesson today?"

He nodded. "But it seems we made it through today without incident."

Pam smiled again but saw something rushing at Jim from behind him. It took her more than a half a second to realize it was Roy. He looked furious and she didn't have enough time before he whirled Jim around and went to punch him.

It was ironic really. A moment before that she was thinking of that stupid children rhyme.

_Secrets, secrets are no fun._

_Secrets, secrets, always tend to hurt someone. _

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Reviews are welcome and loved :D they inspire my writing!


	11. Formositas falsus

Chapter 11: Formositas falsus

Pam heard Roy's fist connect before she saw it. It was a blur. She saw Roy rushing towards them, but just as he went to nail his head off Jim ducked and his hand connected with the car instead. She winced when she heard his bones ram against the metal and her ears burned at the screech Roy gave. She was still amazed that he had the damn courage to run out here and hit him. But then again Roy did tend to live off of beer and testosterone.

"Roy! What the hell are you—" she was cut off again by Roy going for another punch. But Jim was ready now and was backing up as Roy was advancing. He knew exactly the way he felt, because Jim was feeling it too. It was hard not to acknowledge it, the pulsating adrenaline filling his veins and nerves.

Pam got between Roy and Jim and pushed him back a little, trying not to get hit herself. Not that Roy would do it on purpose, but he was recklessly flying his fist everywhere.

"Stop it now Roy." Pam said. She kept herself securely planted between both before anything more could escalate.

"Are you happy Pam?" Roy slurred out.

She squinted at him briefly and wondered why she didn't smell that alcohol rolling off him in waves before. "You're drunk. Were you like this at work?"

Jim backed up as far as he could and slumped against the front of the car. He tried to keep his hands in his pockets so Pam wouldn't see that they were clenching into fists.

Roy shook his head. "Why would you even care if I was? You didn't even care enough to tell me you were leaving me!"

That's what Jim had been afraid of. That Roy would accuse her of keeping him around. But he kept quiet and observed the two.

Pam seemed to falter for a moment until she found her voice, or maybe she was looking for her damn nerve. Jim couldn't tell which, it seemed she couldn't find either at the moment, so he stepped in.

"She was going to tell you." He said quietly. As soon as he opened his mouth he knew he shouldn't have. Pam turned and gave him a look that said she was handling it while Roy just started yelling.

"Was anyone talking to you Halpert?" he spat.

"He's right Roy; I was going to tell you."

Roy rolled his eyes and made it look like it took him a whole lot of effort. "_You_ were going to tell _me_ Pam? You hardly say anything to me all day. How am I supposed to believe that?"

Jim resisted the act of widening his eyes and screaming at Roy. He wondered if half of Roy's brain cells were so far gone from the drinking and up at late hours watching football. Hadn't he ever wondered why Pam never opened up to him about _anything_? Never talked to or concerned him with any part of her life? Nope, Jim shook his head. He wasn't going to touch that subject. No matter how much Roy was practically begging him to.

"Because you're too busy to listen to me Roy! It's either football or drinking or fix me dinner Pam!" she was screaming now and Jim looked around the parking lot to make sure no one else was seeing this. "That's practically all I ever hear from you. I guess the compliments and nice gestures died along time ago."

Jim wondered if they had ever been there at all.

Then Roy did something bold. He placed his hand on Pam's forearm and squeezed it tightly, like he was trying to get her to stop talking or to gain her attention. He was drunk and Jim knew that but no matter how many excuses he was giving him, when he heard Pam wince at the action, something inside him snapped. And suddenly his clenching fists were turning his knuckles white and his hands were coming out from his coat pockets. She surprised him by standing up for herself, pushing Roy away and Jim leaned himself against the car again. He rolled his eyes at the action he had been so ready to take. He honestly didn't know what he would have done. Jim had never gotten into a fight that required fists in his entire life. There was one time in kindergarten, when he'd taken a crayon from the wrong person. There had been a few light shoves, but nothing major. He was glad Pam stepped in when she did because he knew he'd be the one hurting if she hadn't. He had too much of a savior complex for this girl, always sacrificing his emotions and body to save her. He was tired of it; but he knew he'd do it over and over again, just like he had been ready to do not moments ago.

"Don't touch me Roy." Pam grit out. She yanked her arm away even though he wasn't touching her anymore. "When I go back home, I'm getting my things. It's over."

Jim was surprised at her. He'd never seen this side of her and honestly didn't know she had one. He looked to see Roy's reaction and he was just as surprised as he was, maybe even more so. The one thing Jim was feeling for him that he wished he hadn't been was sympathy. The poor bastard was drunk and this hadn't been the right time for her to do this. He was afraid that Roy wouldn't even remember any of this the next morning. Which meant when he woke up and Pam's things were gone he'd have a major meltdown. He'd have to tell her that. That even though Roy was an ass, he didn't deserve that. No man did. Jim would take her to her apartment tomorrow morning when Roy would be sober. But she'd have to do this all over again, with a more coherent Roy. He didn't know how she would see that, or if she still had the nerve to do it.

"If that's what you want Pam." Roy's eyes were shining and Jim could tell tears were gathering there. Pam was good at that, he hated to admit. She could take your worst emotion and shove it in your face and by the time she was done your eyes were filling with familiar tears. He didn't think she knew she was doing it or that it was some power she possessed, but Pam could break hearts. Without her even knowing it.

Jim waited until Pam gathered herself and instead of going to her own car, she went to Jim's. He stood there for a moment, not really sure what was going on. He'd been paying attention, but everything seemed so sudden. It also was ringing in his head that Roy was drunk and that he couldn't drive home.

"Do you need a ride man?" Jim asked him. Roy was staring at the pavement and he wondered if he should speak another language Roy would understand. Although, now that he thought about it he hoped he did have a ride home because sticking these two in the car together would be the end of him.

He tried again, softer this time and stepping closer to him. "Roy, do you have a ride?" He put more emphasis on his words, like he was talking to a child that had just lost their puppy.

Roy just nodded, but never looked up. "I can call someone."

He sounded dangerously sober and Jim wondered if Pam's outburst had done it to him. But he didn't ask, he just turned and headed to his car. When he got in, Pam was crying. She wasn't sobbing and he could tell she was trying really hard not to. But he was kind of glad that she was because then that would mean not all of this had to do with anger. They had loved each other at one point, Pam and Roy, and Jim would have been worried if she hadn't been upset.

"You okay?" he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She nodded and turned to smile at him through her tears. It was a weak and watery look, a poor excuse for a smile but he took it anyway.

"Where do you want me to take you?" Jim asked. It was always her decision anyways.

"Can I sleep at your place tonight?" she asked meekly and Jim nodded starting the engine. He glanced at her before pulling out of the parking lot and for some reason she looked like a flower to him; a flower that had a shade of gorgeous dark royal purple. And it wasn't the act of blooming or starting anew that was reminding him of such a flower. He remembered his grandma used to say something about her flowers, the ones that were special and tended to bloom at night. Formositas falsus, his grandma used to say. And that's exactly what reminded him of her in this instance and for what had happened tonight.

Formositas falsus; beauty that belies a dark nature.

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thank you for reading:D and there is prob only one more chapter left so please R&R while you still can :D


	12. Those damn pens again

this is the last chapter. i hope everyone loved it as much i loved writing it! thank you so much to all my reviewers, especially the ones who had it all the way at the beginning!

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Chapter 12: Those damn pens again

Jim unlocked his front door. Pam had been quiet ever since he'd left the parking lot of Dunder Mifflin. He wondered if she had lost her voice like the time she'd lost her keys.

"You want something to drink?" he asked her, taking her coat and placing it on the rack.

She shrugged and followed him into the kitchen. "What are you having?"

He followed her action and shrugged. "I don't know…something strong."

He reached into the fridge and pulled a bottle of wine out.

"What's all that stuff in your living room?" she asked, just noticing the boxes.

He looked into the living room and turned his attention back to the cork in the wine bottle. "Oh, Michael gave me all these boxes full of pens and stuff from the warehouse. Apparently we miscounted."

"You miscounted." She muttered making him smile.

"Yeah, well I recall someone running into the rain and distracting me."

"And I recall someone picking me up and taking me in the rain." She countered taking the bottle and uncorking it for him.

His smiled faded as he took it and poured himself some and placed it back into the fridge. "What are we gonna do Pam?" he asked as the silence started to cover the room like a blanket.

She shrugged. "I figured we'd watch a really horrible movie and play Janga."

"I meant about Roy and you knew what I meant so why push my buttons?" he asked. He seriously wanted to know how she was feeling. And her defiantly not answering him on purpose was frustrating him. He wanted her to tell him so he wouldn't be taken by surprise; it was much easier preparing himself for her hurting him.

"I already told him, it's taken care of."

She sounded like Roy had been a job. "He was drunk, he's not gonna remember anything."

Pam shook her head. "You'd be surprised." At Jim's exasperated face she sighed. "Look Jim, it's not like he hasn't been drunk before. I know how this goes."

"That's great Pam, I'm glad you have this whole thing memorized."

"Look, can we not fight about this? I'm tired fighting about everything." She shook her head and picked up Jim's wine glass. He watched her take a few sips out of it. He shook his head; she reminded him of Roy sometimes. Every time things ended up too heavy for her to handle she tried burying it in the smooth dry taste of alcohol. Thinking that whatever anger she was feeling would just wash away in the horrible aftertaste and nauseating hangover.

Jim nodded and took the glass from her and set it on the counter. "You need to talk to him again okay? He deserves…" Jim bit his tongue on the sentence. Roy didn't deserve a lot, he didn't deserve Pam. But he, if anything, deserved an honest answer. "He needs to know."

Pam nodded and looked at the floor. She was scared. She wanted, needed, to be with Jim. It was cliché but he completed her. Without him she was a puzzle that could never be put together because of the missing pieces. She liked the feeling of being whole and completed. She liked that he was the one to fill in her puzzle, and that she filled in his.

"He knows deep down." She whispered.

"That's not enough, he needs more than that." He should know. That was Jim's motto; needing more.

Pam knew what he needed. But it wasn't like he was getting a happy ending out of it. Jim had always been her happy ending; her fairytale without the lame dialogue.

"Can you do that?" he asked. "Can you tell him again?"

She nodded and he took her chin and pulled her into a kiss. She understood everything a lot clearer when that happened; when he kissed her. Life was like this; there were no happy endings. Because some things didn't have to end for it to be perfect; for the hero to ride into the sunset.

When the kiss ended he pulled her into the living room and sat her on the couch. "Horrible movie and Janga?"

She smiled. "Scrabble?"

He nodded and pulled the board games out from the closet. He shook the box and made sure all the pieces were still in it. He sat on one end of the couch, near the rows of boxes and folders and she sat on the other.

"Ok you start."

She nodded. The game started out with simple spellings until Jim scrunched his eyes at the board.

"Verde is not a word."

She smiled. "It's a Spanish word."

He picked up the box and waved it at her. "And this is English Scrabble."

She rolled her eyes and picked up her pieces and placed them down again.

"Neither is pessimisty."

Pam nodded. "It is too."

Jim smirked and nodded. "Want to give me a definition there Pam?"

"It's the word between pessimistic and pessimist. Has the same meaning." She shrugged.

"I think someone needs an English dictionary." He said raising his eyebrows.

"Oh yeah? What's your word?"

"Actually…I have three."

She looked down at the words Jim spelled out and smiled. A simple 'I love you' was spelled out on the board.

"You're a dork Jim Halpert." She laughed.

He reached across the board and inched an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him. "Come on, I'm sweeping you off your feet."

She shook her head as she leaned down to kiss him. "The thing is…you kind of are." She whispered.

As Jim leaned back all the way onto the couch, his head bumped into one of the boxes behind him. It was just enough for it to tip over and they watched as pens and folders fell onto the floor.

Jim shook his head and looked at the various things now blanketing the floor. His attention was suddenly taken away by Pam leaning down and kissing him. If his mouth wouldn't have been on Pam's he would have laughed. Who would have thought that office supplies, like manila folders and ball point pens, would have gotten them there?

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please review. and i'm also taking requests for a next story. i'm writing another jim/pam story and if you have any ideas, please leave them. i'd be more than happy to write a story for you. thanks and love, civillove :D


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